A Hard Bargain
by snoopydoodles17
Summary: Regina Mills is the single owner of "Tea Time", a restaurant in New Port Richey, Florida. It was her husband's, Daniel's, family's restaurant, and was left to her when her husband died. Now, ten years later, she's being asked to sell it by a strapping man who may or may not be quite an ass to her. He's persistent, but she's stubborn. Modern day AU, set in NPR, FL. Outlaw Queen.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N:_

_Hi guysss! This is a new story that I'm doing that will be replacing Teaching the Heart. I know some are going to be disappointed I'm not finishing that story, but I'm just not getting enough feedback and stuff on it to make me want to write more of it._

_So, with that said, if you're interested in more of this story, __**make sure to review and leave your feedback! **__Otherwise, there won't be another chapter, and I'll move on to another AU idea :)_

_Thank you!_

_G._

**_.._**

**_..._**

It's a cool winter day in Florida, ten years ago.

New Port Richey never gets cold, it's a rare phenomenon that it dips below thirty-five degrees even on the coolest winters. There's no ice, no dreary, dark days, no snow and no slipping and hurting anything. It's blue skies, clouds, and seventy-five degree weather throughout the "winter" months.

It's a tourist spot, _Snowbird _vacation city. Tampa Bay is only an hour or so, St. Pete is close by, along with Clearwater and Orlando trailing along pretty close-distance. Around November, the streets flood with cars from places like New York, Ohio, and Indiana so that they can all escape the snow and come to what's called paradise.

The wind is whipping the car all over Highway 19, the crazy drivers already making it hard for them to get to work in time to open the restaurant.

It's a cozy, quaint, family-owned business. Regina and Daniel Stableman have owned it ever since his parents passed it down to them, ever since they were just newlyweds. The chairs and tables are close together, it's decorated with frivolous little decorations that you see in every cafe or small restaurant in any town. It smells of coffee and good, home cooked food.

Not by Regina, of course, because she can burn water (she's actually done it before). Daniel is the cook of their small, but growing, family.

Ah, growing. She's nine months on the dot today with their first child and has tried to stifle her complaints as she keeps working, knowing they can't afford another hostess to come take her place until she just no longer can. As is, they struggle to keep business up, even though there are plenty of customers each day.

Henry, their unborn son, is kicking the life out of her as she leans against the small pedestal to write checks for the three waitresses they have, the other cook besides Daniel, and the busboy who only works part time. Looking down, she wonders why he's doing this to her when she already doesn't want to be here today, when she just wants to be at home with her feet kicked up on the coffee table, drinking a nice cup of hot chocolate with little marhsmallows drowning in it. Not here, rubbing her brow over paychecks that she's writing that she hopes there's enough money in the bank for.

Their staff consist of three women waitresses – Emma, Mary-Margaret, and Belle. Emma Swan is a high school dropout, hasn't had education past the eleventh grade. Her family life wasn't great, and Regina had known her for most of Emma's life, took pity on her, and taught her how to wait tables to make a living.

Mary-Margaret (who has earned the nickname "Snow" for once dying her hair just that – snow white – on a dare) is polite, level-headed, and very easy to get along with. She's definitely their best employee, but also because she strives for the attention. The _yes, you're doing great _and the extra tip left by customers. Also, easily could be called a kiss-up.

Belle, well...Belle doesn't belong here as a waitress. She's a college student at Pasco-Hernando Community College, getting her AA before moving on to University of South Florida to eventually get her masters in writing. She's a complete bookworm, and Regina has easily given her good Christmas presents each year she's worked for them because she knows almost any book will do. Along with reading them, writing them is her passion. She's seen during break time writing on her note pad, little tid-bits of amazing stories she's coming up with.

Needless to say, she gets along with her staff pretty well. Daniel doesn't have to, he's in the back most of the time with David, the other cook. David is easy-going, laid back, and pretty cool as long as you're cool to him.

"Stop that." She's hissing now, patting her stomach as little Henry is still insisting on pressing on her it and into the hard counter top. She writes David's paycheck, the last one, and seals them all in envelopes to give to them when they get here in a few minutes.

Daniel is in the back, turning the lights and things on still. Getting the grills hot for the busy breakfast hour, warming the coffee makers up, bringing the pre-made pastries and muffins out along with the store-bought fruit. Things he does every morning, every day of his life. As he's walking from the kitchen, he looks up to his beautiful bride, seeing that contorted face immediately made him worry. "Regina, are you alright?" He asks, walking around to the back of the stand where she's sitting on a stool.

Her nod isn't very reassuring, and she knows that, but she's not so sure herself. "I'm fine. He's going to be a great kicker, though, I know it." She replies, making her nod a little more reassuring as she gives a small grin up to him.

He tells her okay, but if she starts feeling anything to just let him know. She assures him that she's going to be fine, that she's only thirty-six weeks today, and that she won't make him clean up her amniotic fluid off of the floor once her water breaks. With that, he smiles and they stop once Snow and David both come in.

"Together?" Regina quips slyly, smirking and raising her brows as though it's a big shock.

Snow narrows her eyes, tries to give an intimidating look to the brunette behind the counter, but fails hopelessly and walks to the bar section where the old men come and congregate in the mornings.

She checks her watch, sees that it's 7:30, and turns on the flashing neon _Open _sign in the window.

By twelve, her feet are swollen, hurting, and everything from her legs up are aching as well. She wants to sit down and call Emma or Belle in to take over her shift, but seeing as she was nervous to write them all checks this morning, giving them extra hours wouldn't be a good idea.

The little bell on the door is ringing often as people come and go, empty stomachs or full to their chins with pancakes or eggs, or maybe even the first few burgers of the day. But it's been annoying her ever since eight this morning, ever since she got up and had to start moving around. Again, that hot chocolate in their apartment sounds better...and...better.

The last customer of the day is at 2:30, and they close at three. So as he's sitting down, she checks the parking lot and decides it's going to be slow enough to turn the open sign off.

Waddling up to the table, she takes her note pad out for the fiftieth time today, grabs the pen from behind her ear, and rests her wrists on her belly – all ready to write. "My name is Regina, I'll be your waitress today. What can I get you to drink?"

"Water with lime." The man answers, _Englishman _answers.

She looks up from the notepad while shaking her head a little, "We only have lemons. Is that o-"

"Only lemon? Seriously?" He snaps, then stands up. Regina actually gets nervous for a moment, backing up and getting slightly off balance – holding onto a chair behind her. "Do you know who I am?"

She's looking up at him in the face, furrowing her brows and now gaining her anger, "No." She counters, biting her tongue to hold back a _YOU JUST MADE A PREGNANT LADY FALL INTO A CHAIR AND PISS HERSELF._

"Robin Locksley, owner of Roi De La Jungle."

"Roi De La Jungle? You're British, not French." She muses, immediately regretting that she lost her tongue. She didn't like smarting off to customers (but is he even a customer?). She doesn't know French, so the comment somewhat frustrates her because she doesn't even know what it means, other than _jungle_.

With a roll of his eyes, he moves on, "Can I speak to the owner, Mr. Stableman?"

"Daniel has stepped out, but I'm the part-owner. I'm his wife. What do you need?" She asks, leaning casually against the chair now.

He's leaning against his chair, but sticking his chest out in a proud sort of way that made Regina want to stick a needle in his scalp and deflate his head before he replies, "I'm going to buy your restaurant, Mrs. Stableman. This little...little..." He's gathering his words, trying not to look disgusted, it seems, as he looks around, "_Quaint_" he finally spits out, but she knows it's not the word he wants to use, "Restaurant will be demolished and turned into a new Roi De La Jungle location."

She immediately knows why he wants _this _spot when there's plenty of other places that he wouldn't have to demolish. It's only a turn or two away from the nearest beach access, close to the gulf. It's right on the busy Highway 19, and it's also usually very busy. "I don't think we're in the business to sell. This was his parents res-"

"I didn't want a back story." He interrupts very rudely, "I want the restaurant."

"In that case – no. Please, either order something or exit, Mr. Locksley." And she says the words like he said quaint, like the words burned her tongue.

**..**

…

Weeks later, weeks after the rude Mr. Locksley visited, she was holding her baby boy in her arms for the first time in the hospital bed. February 1st, a nice warm day.

She'd left the hospital the next day with Henry, driving home in their four-door SUV with his little car seat in the back, never making the car ride quiet and peaceful. This should've been the second happiest day in her life, next to marrying Daniel, but it wasn't. That was the problem: Daniel.

On the way home from the hospital to get a few things for his wife and new son, he'd been hit in the side of his car on Highway 19 and Ridge Rd., flipping twice and smashing into a power pole to stop him. He was pronounced dead on the scene, not living more than a minute after the impact, so they say.

That's why she had tears in her eyes as her newborn cried and cried at the top of his lungs, as he whined and wanted her so badly, but she didn't have anybody lined up to take her home. She insisted she drive herself, taking the long way home so she wouldn't have to see the spot where the love of her life was killed by a _stupid _drunk driver. Never again will she drink, never will she let Henry think it's okay, either.

**..**

…

Ten years later, she's bustling through the restaurant at a quick pace. They've hired a new cook to take the place of Daniel after three years of Regina not replacing him, and his name is Killian, the ex-busboy. The new busboy's name is August, a strapping lad from Maine.

"Do you have all of your orders in, Snow?" She asks, hanging up another note scratched with ink of orders from each of her tables. It's still the same little restaurant, hardly any updates to it. Customers still barrel in, and especially right now at a week until Christmas.

Snow answers yes, she does and that David informed her they're all out of mozzarella cheese – meaning no omelets with said cheese, and no mushroom burgers unless they want to substitute the cheese part of it. Nodding, she's rushing and looking up at the clock. It's rush hour, right at 12:10, still three more hours until she has to pick Henry up.

The doorbell keeps ringing, customers are coming in more and more quickly. "Can you call Belle, see if she's home? I hate doing that to her but we're really behind." She says to Emma through the voices and soft Christmas rock playing on the radio.

Once Emma nods, assuring she'll call as soon as she brings drinks to table two, she turns and delivers her large tray of food to the first booth on her right, making sure her reindeer antler decorations on her head don't get snipped by the tray in her hand. "Here you are, one grilled cheese, one egg, ham, and grilled onion omelet, and one-" She's looking up, back at her ticket, and then at the tray. "Did I make a mistake here?"

"No, our other guy is coming. He told us to order for him." The one man replies, both of them in suits and ties.

She's already grabbing the plate of their finest meal in the whole restaurant, Chicken Fettucini Alfredo (her speciality, though she doesn't make it. Daniel insisted it be put on the menu when she was brought into the Stableman family because he knew how much she loved that dish). "Alright, I'll be back to check on you all and see how your food is." She states, swooping her tray under her arm and taking off back toward the kitchen, getting stopped by the doorbell ringing.

She rushes back to her stand, grabbing a menu for the man who was turned around to look out of the window. "Just one?" She asks, grabbing the rolled-up silverwear in a napkin.

He nods yes, his hands are in his pockets, "I'm meeting two others here."

She pauses to look at the two men she just served, "Oh, this way." She says, walking ahead with the silverwear still in her hand. Laying them on the table, she steps away and lets him slide in the booth beside the other businessman. "Enjoy your-"

And she stops. She sees him. _Him. That bastard who came in this restaurant years ago. _

Quickly turning away, she ignores her tables and the people steadily coming in (including Belle, since she only lives down the street now), and heads to the bathroom.

Even after ten years, the smallest thing could set her off about Daniel. He was her true love. He changed her and helped her in so many ways, and when he died it changed her and made her go backwards again. She was always been there for Henry, always being the best she could be for him, but she wasn't always the nicest mother to him. She knows it, too. Everyone knows it, but she's never gone as far as hitting him inappropriately (only when he absolutely deserves it), therefore no one worries for the boy.

The anger at the driver, the grief over her dead husband, and the mishaps that's happened between then and now have made her a bitter person. No longer that young adult who loved to ride horses. No longer the young adult who went for a picnic with her husband and decided they were going to have a baby soon. No longer the young adult who likes to smile, laugh, or play. She has her work, sends Henry off to school and helps him when he's home, and goes to bed. It's never out of order, always routine. Always the same.

Until things like this happen, where they shake her up so much she ends up wanting to punch the wall in the bathroom. She never has attempted, but she's come close.

She's running her fingers through her hair, not frantic, not upset yet, trying to stay calm as she looks in the mirror. "He didn't even know Daniel." She whispers to herself, reminding her so just stop worrying.

Snow had suggested about two months after his death that she see the therapist, Archie Hopper, and she did, thankfully. Otherwise, Regina probably would've gone off the deep end.

After she soothes herself, she tightens her apron back up and walks into the hustle and bustle yet again. On her way out, she fixes a bright, magenta colored ornament on their small Christmas tree in the corner. Her eyes are mostly fixed on the bulb, but somehow they drift over to see the rugged man staring at her in the booth she should be doing a better job of waiting on.

He's watching her intently. Watching her face, not her body (which makes her feel better), and he's still staring as she turns toward the kitchen to get some more plates.

Once delivered, she stops by their table with a pitcher of water to freshen up, handling Robin's glass and pouring the crisp water in, then handling his two business partners' glasses. "How are your meals so far?" She asks softly, keeping her nerves down, even though all that's wanting to run through her mind is _Daniel_.

He's the last to answer, last to comment about his food after Graham (a regular here at Tea Time Cafe – she's pretty sure he's a high up in the county work) and Keith, the other man there, "Mine's quite good, but it would be better if I were the one who was supplying the chef, m'lady." She looks down her shoulder, cocking her jaw to the side. _He remembers. _"I would still pay boo-coos of money to have this spot, Mrs. Stableman."

"It's just Miss Mills." She corrects him, not looking up from her spot on the ground until she slowly cranes her neck back around, placing her hands on the table to lean over to his level, "I'm _not _selling the restaurant. It was my husband's and his family's, and someday my son's."

"Oh, you have a son?"

_Do you not remember me being a whale when I met you? _"Yes, he's still young, though."

His nod is coy, and that's when Regina knows he remembered she had a son. "I heard about Mr. Stableman's wreck. It was quite unfortunate, and my condolences go to you, Miss Mills."

All this time, now, he was being a coy, son-of-a-bitch to her. He _knew. _He _remembered _that Daniel died, and that he was her husband, and that they had a child together. He _knew. _"Thank you Mr. Locksley, but I do assure you, it doesn't change my plans to sell the restaurant." And with that, she turns, walks, and finishes her tables all day until it's time to leave and pick Henry up.

Snow and David always close – since Regina knows she's comfortable with him, obviously. He's now her husband, after all those years of flirting and doey eyes, they got married in May of 2007. Therefore, she knows she can trust them to behave (most of the time. She still wonders if they've had quickies on the barstools, but she can't _really_ blame them if they have) while she goes to pick Henry up a little before the restaurant closes at 4.

While he's in the back seat, sipping on a box of juice she brought him from the restaurant (like she always does on Mondays), she pulls her eyes up to the rearview mirror to sneak a little peek at him, "How was school today?" She asks, going down Ridge Rd. from the elementary school that Henry goes to.

He goes on to tell her all about his day; from first period, to play time, to the craft they did in art for the Christmas season, "See?" He asks, holding it up after he's dug it from his backpack. It's a cute little ornament, handmade with clay. "It's a snowman, Olaf to be exact."

Her smile is proud, "That's a cute little guy. We'll have to hang him on the tree when we get home."

Home – home is the apartment complex on Little Road. It's somewhat new, but to her she wishes sometimes she could leave New Port Richey entirely, because all of it reminds her of Daniel too much. Which is why she still goes to Archie after almost ten years of her husband being gone.

Once they pull into their complex, Reguis Apartments, and parks in her everyday parking spot. "Bring your trash inside, Henry." She reminds her boy, knowing he'll purposely leave the juice box for her to clean out later. "And get your books, too, I'm not taking you back down."

"Oh, well I should just.._.forget_...them, then. I didn't want to do the homework anyway."

"Henry." She snaps low and stern, her face tilted forward and her eyes fixated on him.

That's all it takes, the Medusa look, and his head is hanging in shame, saying, "Yes, mom." as he grabs his book-bag and empty juice box from the cup holder. While he makes his way to stand beside her at the elevator, he's fiddling with his backpack that she knows is too heavy for him.

"Here, let me carry it." She says, taking it off of his back and going in the elevator after him.

**..**

…

"One snowman pancake with a side of strawberries!" She's yelling, standing at the kitchen window and putting the note up.

It's 8:00, busy breakfast time, and there's _so_ many people in here again. This is probably one of the busiest Christmases she's had as the owner of the store, even as a co-owner with Daniel. It's not like she isn't thankful for the business, but she knows it's only because of the Christmas season, and it'll start dropping down again once the holidays are over again.

David is working like a mad-man to get orders finished, along with Killian in beside him. A plate is being thrown out to set on the window, Snow rushes to grab it and set it on one of her tables before going to the next one to get orders.

Life is busy. Always busy.

And today, at four, Regina has to pick Henry up from Belle's house instead of school, because he's off for winter break and Belle has pitched in to help. "Thank you so much for taking care of him, Belle." She says sincerely, standing in the doorway looking in, "It really helps me out a lot. The restaurant has been so busy..."

"It's no problem, Regina. He's welcome to come any time." Belle says, hugging him one last time and letting him run outside, yelling _Bye Ms. Belle! _On the way out.

Regina huffs a laugh, shaking her head, "He's excited because it's the first night of Christmas break, which means we get to decorate the Christmas tree. I'm so tired, he's going to be disappointed in my lack of help."

Her friend frowns and tilts her head, "I am sure I can call one of my college girlfriend's and see if they need a temp job, Regina. You need to spend some relaxing time with your boy."

"Like who? I know everyone who lives in this town and Emma, Snow, and you are the only ones I really trust with handling my money." She explains, shifting her purse on her shoulder uncomfortably.

"Ruby? She may need some extra work..."

"The sl- girl that works at Hooters?" She asks, correcting herself from calling the woman a slut. Which she is, but...

She nods, "Yes, her. She's a good waitress and she was my roommate."

She huffs, rolling her eyes, and looking over her shoulder and out to the road, "I'll have to think about that one. But give me her number, please, just in case."

Belle goes through her contacts, screenshots Ruby's name and number, then sends it in picture form to Regina's phone. "All set. Let me know if she works out, though, please. It's been a while since I've talked to her."

"That's probably a good thing, Belle..." She says as she's turning away, "Thank you for the number, though. I'll think on it tonight."

And with that, she's down the driveway and inside the car.

He's beaming. He's smiling. He's practically vibrating. "It's. Almost. _Christmas!_"

She laughs and puts the car into reverse, checking her mirrors before backing out, "Not quite..."

"No, but we get to decorate the tree tonight."

"About that, Henry...the restaurant has been so busy and I'm low on help this year..." She starts explaining, "I'm just...I'm really tired tonight. Can we maybe do it next Sunday when I'm not working?"

"But...Sunday is only six days until Christmas..."

She sighs, gripping the steering wheel a little more. "You still have to do last night's homework that you never did. You still have to wrap the presents you bought for Belle, right?" He nods, "Right. So you have plenty to do tonight, but I really need to rest tonight, Henry. Okay?" She asks.

Really, she doesn't need to ask. Her word is what happens. Final. Done deal. But it's just something to make him try to feel a bit better about the situation, even though she doesn't need to do so.

"Okay." He replies, but it's sad and sulky like he'd just seen a puppy dog die.

It breaks her heart, but she also has things to do at the house that simply need done. Such as cooking dinner, cleaning, and getting _some _sleep in before she has to start it all over at six tomorrow morning again. She hates doing that to him – he's only ten – but it's for the best.

"Hey, no pouting." She reminds, noticing his little lip coming out from the rear view mirror. "We'll get it done Sunday if you don't keep pouting."

He looks up at her, annoyed eyes and a huff – just like she used to do. There may be a lot of things about him that reminded her of Daniel (such as his exact image) but his attitude reminded her of her own sometimes. How could he not have her attitude? She's the one who raised him all her life.

All the questions about his dad..._Why can't my dad take me fishing? _Or _I want my dad to teach me to throw the ball_. And she had to explain each time that his daddy died in a car accident, but he was a really good man and would love him very much. Henry hasn't really understood that until the past two years or so, where he finally understood he doesn't have a dad to teach him ball or how to bait a hook. How to drive, how to shave, how to do any of it.

He's gone. Has been gone. And neither really want to accept it.

"Can I watch the Santa Clause?"

"Of course, but only with me." She says, giving him a wink in the backseat so he may cheer up a little. It _is _almost Christmas after all, she doesn't want him too sad. "And remember, you better be good or Santa can still take his presents back."

"Santa won't take them back. He probably doesn't have the receipt."

She laughs, "He doesn't need one. He makes all the toys."

"Yeah right! He so buys them!"

"Nope, he makes them all."

"And puts barcodes on them?"

What? _What? _How the hell did he... "Have you been snooping in my closet?"

_Silence. _"No..." But it doesn't sound so reassuring.

"Henry..."

"Okay, sort of."

"Henry!"

He sighs, "The one said it was from Santa, so I peeked!"

"That was...that present was...for...Snow..." She says, knowing which one it was that she had wrapped with the Santa paper, "She likes warm blankets like you do. And it's this joke...we have...and she calls me Santa."

More silence. _Long _silence. He isn't taking that bait. Surely he will...he's only ten...right? "I don't know..."

"Ask her." She replies, needing to text her as soon as she parks and telling her to go along with it. She doesn't want him to lose the joy of this holiday yet.

He sighs, "Can you hand me your phone, please? I want to text her."

"Oh not right now, sweetheart. She's probably busy."

"Fine..."

As soon as she parks, she whips her phone out and texts Snow, waits for her to reply with an _Okay, _then hands the phone over to Henry. She listens closely, and Snow backs her up just like Regina had asked.

She's going to have to bake her something nice. Well, ask David or Killian to do it...

**..**

…

The days pass by until Friday arrives, somewhat slow for their busy holiday season.

"I don't think I've seen the restaurant this empty during the week before Christmas in...well...never." David tells Regina from the kitchen. She's sitting on the barstools at the small counter.

She nods and replies, "I know, it's going to hurt my bank account, that's for sure. I still have to go shopping some time for Henry's presents. I haven't bought him one thing yet." and peels back a banana.

It's 10:30 – well past breakfast and too early for lunch – which is why David is playing with the spatula in his hands. "Yeah...I haven't bought Mary-Margaret anything either. I was actually hoping-"

"No." She interrupts him, "I'm not asking her, if that's what you're wanting from me."

His face falls a little into a frown, "But you're-"

"Not doing it, David."

A sudden voice startles the both of them, coming from the hallway where the bathroom is, "Not doing what?" Snow asks, giving her head that slight tilt and looking upon her boss with a since of curiosity.

David looks at Regina, then at his wife, then back to Regina. Clearly, she receives the hint, "David was betting that I couldn't drink as much as you. And I've changed my mind, I'm doing it. We're going to the bar tonight."

Snow's face contorts from confusion, but ultimately she decides to just shrug it off and give David a look. After she leaves, Regina turns back to her cook on the barstool, "You owe me. For drinks tonight and for missing a day of potential shopping."

He thinks for a moment, then replies, "Deal."

The day passed by with only one more customer, and that was Mr. Hubert again (alone, this time. No pesky, annoying businessmen who want to buy her restaurant). She left work a little early (only by thirty minutes) and drove to her home to get changed into more _bar appropriate _clothes.

Her closet is puzzling her, though, because all of the clothes she seems to have are "mom jeans" and comfortable shirts. Nothing nice and _certainly _nothing relatively sexy. Not like she needs it, she's made a pact with herself that she'll never even date again. Ever. _Never ever._ Daniel was the only one to ever hold her heart, and always will be.

Regardless, she's had her share of people that have tried to hook up with her. Graham – aka Mr. Hubert – has more than twice asked her on a date. But that wasn't long after the creepy man (whom she now has a restraining order on) drugged her one night and took her back to his bedroom. Leopold King, she won't ever forget the man. Nasty, creepy, and disgusting. He even used to date her mother, which made him all the more creepy.

Now it's useless. She's thirty years old, she's never going to find any kind of love like that again. She has Henry, and that's all she really needs anymore.

Once she comes out of her closet, she's in a dress that she dug out of the back of the closet that Daniel had bought her not long before she found out she was pregnant. She'd only gotten to wear it once, because it didn't fit too great in the next nine months. Obviously. It's black, plain and simple. A subtle bit of cleavage shows, but not enough to make her feel entirely uncomfortable as she's waiting to pick Snow up.

She's running late, Snow is, as usual. She always makes it on time to the restaurant, but when it comes to things like this Regina tells her to be ready ten minutes before they actually need to go, just so they'll be somewhat on time.

But Snow always shows off, for some reason. She's always wearing nice dresses, makeup, her hair is precise and perfect. It makes Regina's heart ache a little when she remembers the time she used to show off for Daniel. In her past, now.

"I thought you were never going to come out of that damn house." She grumbles, driving the car out of the subdivision and onto the busy highway.

Snow is fixing the last touch on her hair in the mirror, "Yeah, well, this is _Ew _Port Richey, I've gotta do something to spice it up a little."

With that, the two chuckle. It's more of a _I've heard that so many times _joke, but it still makes the car ride go by quicker. "Yeah, I found that I have like, nothing to wear." Regina says, turning into the parking lot to the bar.

"Well maybe you should spend some money on yourself?"

"Oh?" Regina quips, "What money?"

Snow's eyes roll from the passenger seat and she opens her door once the car is parked, "It was just a suggestion. Can we just loosen up a little? It's been a long time since we've had drinks."

"A first with you." Regina mumbles, hoping it's inaudible to Mary-Margaret. (And thankfully, it was).

They're inside now, the bar full because a special singer is supposed to come tonight. Some country singer that Regina could care less about, but it's probably right up Snow's alley.

"It sure is busy tonight." Snow says, finding a spot for two – finally – at the bar.

Once Regina settles, she nods, "Yeah, have I mentioned my hate for socialism?"

Snow's eyes are rolling again, the second time out of many to come, "Oh come on. This is why you're still single."

"No, I'm single because I choose to be."

"Be bitter?"

Regina looks at her with a bit of a hurt expression, but then defends herself by saying, "I'm not bitter." and turning to look forward at all of the glass bottles of liquor on the wall.

"Whatever. You're so bitter."

"Am not." And now, they're arguing like little kids so Regina decides to just stop it there, even if Mary-Margaret decides to keep it going.

Luckily, she doesn't, and they order their drinks and start the night off right.

**..**

…

Hard liquor, loud music, and obnoxious lights would all normally make Regina complain until Snow drags her out of the building. But tonight, she's enjoying it thoroughly, completely enthralled for some reason.

The reason being, Snow tipped the bartender while Regina was in the bathroom to give her a little extra (or a lot extra. Two _more _shots into her drink) tequila. Regina downed it, and asked for another, and the bartender gave her the exact same concoction she'd had before.

Before she knew it, she was grinding against men (and sometimes even women, oddly enough) that she didn't even know. Still holding a drink in her hand the whole time, with the other hand up in the air. The music ran through her, bringing the Latina side out in her from her father.

All of the men loved her, of course. Who wouldn't?

"Damn, baby, you dance like you'd be good in bed." One man says, holding onto her hips as she sways them in front of his.

She cranes her neck back and smiles at the handsome man, whose face she recognizes but just can't put a name to it. Her free hand comes down from the air to meet his cheek with her gentle palm, "I am." She whispers as loudly as possible so he can hear her over the music.

With that, she turns around and wraps her arms around his neck. "Well maybe you should come home with me and we can just see about that, shall we?"

Oh, his voice. His voice was already doing things to her that she hadn't had from anything other than a plastic toy, making her warm center become wet. "On one condition, you buy me another shot of tequila."

And he does, because after she says it her lips were on his in nothing flat. After he buys her a shot of tequila and she tells Snow to go without her, he's taking her home in a cab, leaving his sports car there for tomorrow when he's sober and can drive.

It's a mistake that Regina had told herself she'd never make again after Leopold, even though that was unwillingly, and she hadn't even gotten what Snow wanted for Christmas. She'd never even asked.

**_.._**

**_..._**

_A/N: _

_Make sure you remember to review, please, so I know whether or not to write another chapter of this. Thanks!_

_Also, the chapters will probably be longer than this. This was only the first chapter, just getting things started :)_

_Thank you for reading!_

_G._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N:_

_My apologies for getting this chapter out so ridiculously late. I didn't intend for it to take this long to update, but I've been busy with other things. Distracting things such a Tumblr. Lol._

_Anyway, hopefully this'll be the last time you have to wait __**this **__long for a chapter in this story._

_A __**huge **__thanks to thekrissymaddie for helping me out. Once she helped me, I could finally get it flowing the way I needed. _

_I hope you enjoy! If you have any questions about the story or you'd like to chat about it, drop a message at .com and I'll be happy to answer!_

_Thanks!_

_G._

**_.._**

**_..._**

She's looking around, grabbing for blankets, her head throbbing and screaming (one from being hungover and the other from wondering why she's naked).

She's making a failing attempt to remember what went on last night, what happened and where the hell she is. Her memory is not serving her well, only giving her little tidbits of the happenings a few hours ago. She sits up, she's sore. _Great. _Naked and sore...she's had sex.

The bedroom is nice, modern in décor and clean. The bed is covered in only white linens, not a spec of any other color on them. There's dark greens decorated around with jungle-like pictures and paintings of forest. Very elegant, very unique.

By now, she's looking for her clothes that seem to be scattered around the floor. She sees her underwear over by the end of the bed on her side, then her dress at the very end of the room. Her bra..._where's my bra? _She gets out of the bed – holding the blanket around her so she isn't cold and so no one sees her – tip toeing around and gathering her clothing. As she stands up from acquiring her dress in the far side, her dark eyes catch a black lacy thing dangling from the ceiling light.

There's the bra.

There goes that screaming again inside of her head, yelling at herself for ever letting Mary-Margaret take her out last night. For ever drinking. For ever getting drunk. For ever dancing and – no. _No._

The moment she sees his picture on the bedside table, she knows she needs to get out. She knows that she has no business being here, she shouldn't have ever come. She only hopes that he was drunk enough last night, too, to not remember her.

"Regina?"

_Shit. _His voice echoes through the hall and is getting closer with each word he speaks about the breakfast that he's bringing into the room. His house must be huge from the way the echo is reverberating, she thinks. Now the doorknob is moving, and she's jumping everywhere trying to find a window unlocked or _something_. Even if she would've found one, it's on the third story, from the looks of things.

"Ah, you're awake." He says, bringing a tray of exquisitely made breakfast on two plates, two cups of orange juice and one cup of milk (because he doesn't know which one she likes), and a vase with a white rose in water. "I had my maid make us breakfast and-"

"I'm not staying for breakfast." She snips, holding the blanket up and around her and wishing she would've gotten the bra down from the light before he made his entrance. It's much more awkward with it hanging there. As though it's saying _Look what you two did last night._ She tucks a strand of hair hanging down around her face behind her ear and reaches up for the bra, sliding it off up and off of the light.

"But I've brought you-"

"I don't care. I'm not staying." She snaps harder this time, heading to the bathroom and taking her clothing with her, along with the comforter.

Once she's inside the new room, she locks the door behind her and drops the blanket to the cold, tiled floor, trying to keep herself together and not break down in an emotional frenzy. She runs a hand through her hair and looks in the mirror at her smeared lipstick from last night, just a subtle shade of red now. Her hair was a mess, and she's trying to ignore the marks on her neck, collarbone, and breasts. Thankfully it's Sunday, a day she doesn't have to work. But she does have to see Henry, and _oh_ she hopes she has a scarf in her closet somewhere.

After her dress is back in place and her hair is attempted at being fixed, she walks out of the bathroom with her head held high and sees him sitting on the bed, waiting for her still. "I'm not eating with you."

"Why not?"

"I have places to be." She says, gathering her purse that was strung out from being dumped (thankfully she remembered to take that last night from the bar). "And they don't involve being with an Englishman who gets women drunk and sleeps with them."

He looks offended, straightening his posture up and setting his hands on his legs, "I never bought you one drink." He says defensively, "Besides, you were the one grinding up on me."

She stops and stares at him angrily, wondering how he could say such a thing after the trauma she's had this morning of not knowing where she even is. "You, Mr. Locksley, are one _bastard _that doesn't know when to shut up. If you _honestly _think that's how you're going to get my restaurant, you've made one hell of a mistake."

With that, he's quiet. He doesn't say one more word, just stares at her in astonishment of what she's just said as she leaves his room.

After she makes her way down three floors, three flights of stairs, and out of the mansion, she calls a cab and waits in tears. Never noticing that he was watching her from her upstairs window.

**..**

…

Henry didn't even want to go home with Regina from Belle's house. He told her that they were having too much fun (making Regina's heart practically shatter into pieces). _I'm decorating Belle's apartment with her _is what he told her, and then it really hurt her because they were supposed to do that today. It's only four days until Christmas, and their apartment has not even a tree up. Still, it doesn't go up at all, because he tells her he simply wants to stay with Belle, and Belle said that was perfectly okay with her. Regina's drive home is lonely without her juice-loving-boy in the back seat.

Nonetheless, she spends the day home alone in her apartment. All empty with nothing in her head but thoughts of her stupidity last night. That's what happened until six when she finally decided it was time to just go and get Henry, whether he hate her for it or not.

"I don't know why you are taking me home. I don't have homework, I don't have school tomorrow." Henry complains, looking out the window from the backseat.

She sighs, tightening her grip a little on the steering wheel and looking in the rearview mirror at him, "Because I thought we were going to do our decorations today? Stop and get a tree on the way home?"

"Why?" He asks, looking at her from behind, "We're never home to see it all so why would we need to decorate?"

"Henry!" She snaps. She tries to not snap at him, but sometimes he just gets too snotty, too bratty, and way too whiny. "Would you rather me not work so we can be at home all day? Hm? That means no TV, no video games, not as much food. Because I wouldn't make enough money to give you all of that."

After that statement, he's pretty much quiet the whole way to Lowes to pick up the tree. She guesses he wants to keep his TV, video games, and good food.

Parked, unloaded, and in the tent with the trees, he's browsing lazily through the more expensive ones. Regina is okay with buying a nice tree, always has been.

"This one!" He says, getting suddenly cheerier and pointing to the one standing up, tall and lusciously dark green.

She walks over and stands it up straight, undoing some of the branches so they can see it better. She asks him if this is still the one (and she has to admit, it's quite beautiful) and he says yes. She gets the attention of the man working there, and he carries it outside for them and bags it up, helping tie it to the top of her SUV.

The whole evening is spent with hot cocoa, a batch of break-apart cookies, and decorating the apartment. And of course, Christmas music blaring from the Music Choice channel on the television. And _maybe _a round of The Santa Clause (since that _is_ their favorite movie).

**..**

…

Monday morning, after dropping Henry off at Belle's, Regina is driving to work with _Santa Claus is Coming to Town _stuck in her head. Not the best song to have replaying in your mind over and over on a Monday morning at 7:30.

When she arrives, the restaurant has a customer waiting outside. She gets in through the back and turns the open sign on inside the front window, getting a few menus ready, then opening the door for the customer. She can't see who it is through the tinted windows, but she doesn't even think about looking to find out.

"Good morning, Killian." She says, adding on, "You're surprisingly early." before leaning over the bar-space.

He lets out a little bit of a chuckle, "I didn't have to ride my bike today, got a ride."

"Oh, a ride? From?"

He gives her a look, narrowing his eyes and scoffing a little. "Emma." He replies, looking around to the doorway in the hall where Emma is rolling up silverwear in napkins for the day.

"Emma?" She coos in reply, "Hmmm...Emma..._Emma..._Oh! Our Emma?" She teases.

"_My _Emma."

With that she raises her brows, "So it's official?"

He nods, puts the just-made biscuits into the oven and shuts it, setting the timer, "Indeed. We're official. Finally. After years, and years of trying to woo her."

She smiles, about to reply before the doorbell rings and she shrugs, "We'll talk about this later." She says, turning and grabbing the menus she'd brought with her. "Good morning, how are-" She stops and scoffs, looking at the man in the doorway. "Why are you here?"

Suddenly, she feels Killian's eyes watching her like a hawk's eyes. She turns to him and gives him a glare, that's when he scurries away to prepare more of the daily food.

Robin steps in, setting his briefcase down on the table. "I have a flight out of St. Pete this afternoon, and I was hoping I could have a nice breakfast before I leave."

There's Killian's eyes again, staring at her back and at Robin. "Why? I thought you didn't like the food here?"

"It's growing on me, and I've brought my own lime."

The sneaky little bastard has an outstanding memory, and she's learning that more and more by every visit she gets from him. "Well, good for you." She quips before practically tossing the menu on the table and turning to the kitchen, about to call for Emma to wait on him until he speaks again.

"Um, m'lady?" He says, and she slowly, _slowly, _turns around to face him, "I already know what I'd like to order."

She scoffs, taking her notebook out of her apron and her pen from behind her ear, "Okay, what do you want?"

"You know," He says after a moment, "Your attitude toward me could be very bad for your business, Miss Mills, and I really would hate to see your little _Tea Time _turn into something more established." He says in a hushed tone, not quite a whisper but low enough for Killian not to hear.

She narrows her eyes at him, "Miss Mills? Seriously? After you just-" She lowers her voice, "fucked me the other night you're suddenly the businessman of the year?" She snips, gripping tighter on her notepad in her left hand as she waits for his answer. And all he does is give her a simple nod. "You sly bastard." She hisses, shaking her head and looking down, "What do you want for breakfast, _Mr. Locksley_?" She asks, disgusted with the mere thought of _saying _his name.

"A ham, cheese, and onion omelet with a side of two biscuits, grape jam, and a tall glass of milk."

She writes it down, leaves the table without another word and hands the ticket to Killian, grumbling, "Add some poison to that, too, will ya?" and leaning against the counter top.

Apparently she wasn't quiet enough, because Robin is standing up and looking at her. "Miss Mills, I don't think you want to treat customers that way, do you?" He asks, fixing his tie.

Whipping her head around to look at him, her face is contorted into a scowl and her lips are tight together. "I suggest if you would like to eat breakfast here, Mr. Locksley, that you don't tell me how to treat my customers." That's what he's wanting. Bickering, fighting, he wants to get her worked up and she _feels _him doing that, but can't bring herself to hold her tongue. "You won't make or break my restaurant, there are still plenty of people to keep it in business."

He tilts his head, almost as if that wasn't the reply he was expecting, "No, but I can help it get _more _business."

"Help me? Help _me? Help _me get more business? Isn't this the same man who was just wanting to buy the building so he can tear it down and make a new, wonderful Royda La – roi de...whatever out of it?"

"Roi De La-"

"I know what it is. The name burns my tongue." She snaps, turning her whole body to face him, "And how do you plan on getting me more business when-"

She's stopped by the door opening, a new customer for the morning. She narrows her eyes as she walks past last night's lover, mumbling that he better behave.

**..**

…

Tuesday and Wednesday drag by slowly, Wednesday is Christmas Eve and Henry is all excited because Santa Claus is coming tonight. He's talked Belle's ear off about the presents he hopes to get, and he's talking Regina's ear off about the same thing, now, on their way home.

"Henry, Henry...slow down." She coos, shaking her head and going out onto Highway 19. "You haven't been all _that _good this year, I don't know if you're going to get all of that."

"Yes I have!" He argues childishly, making Regina roll her eyes a bit, "I've had good...ish grades. Sorta." He murmurs, "And I do what you and Belle and Emma tell me to do!"

She mumbles something about how Santa doesn't always count on the grades, it's how well little boys and girls listen to their mommies and daddies (or other people around in charge), and how quick they go to bed when told. He argues that he doesn't get sleepy as early as she tells him, but she stays silent to stop arguing with a ten year old.

After he's tucked in and the presents are all needing to be wrapped and stuffed under the tree, she's stuck thinking about Robin and their mishaps Saturday night.

Her heart flutters, because she can remember what all they did that night. He was great, chiseled and toned, quite handsome while hovering above her and giving her multiple orgasms. His arms were muscular, but not so muscular she wonders if he's on steroids. They have a normal look to them – a _beautiful _normal. And his stomach, _oh _his stomach. He's gorgeous, really, there's no denying that.

By the time she snaps from her slight daze, she realizes where her hand is and it alarms her so badly that she jumps up onto her feet. _Shake that out of your head right now. He's a jerk. _Her head is pounding, astonished that she was thinking of ever having sex with him again. _No. He's off limits. _

But women have their needs, and he can damn well suffice them.

Not just suffice them, but do very well at sufficing them. He's amazing.

_No. He isn't. He sucked, Regina. He's not what you need. He's not what you should be thinking about as you're wrapping your sons Christmas presents, and he's most certainly not what you should be thinking about while rubbing yourself. No._

She stops thinking about him quite as much, but still can't shake his voice out of the back of her head.

And as the last present is being placed under the tree (this is the big one, _the _one he's wanted for months now), she yawns and looks up at the clock on the wall, noting that it's way past her bedtime.

As her head hits the pillow and the comforter is pulled up around her shoulders, she's doing something she's done since she was a young girl – wish on Christmas Eve. Last year's didn't come true, but this year's...all she wishes for is for next Christmas to be a better one.

**..**

…

Six o' clock comes quickly with Henry being her human alarm clock, shouting _It's Christmas! _as he's jumping on her bed Superman style (belly first, flopping from five feet away). She's laughing tiredly, "Henry, Henry...easy, little man." She mutters out as his ten-year old body weight is engulfing her.

"But mom! Santa came!" He argues, and though his argument is completely invalid, she sits up slowly and groggily, "And he brought a lot of presents! But he didn't eat any of the cookies I laid out for him..." He states, a bit of confusion in his tone.

_Oh..._she forgot to eat a few. She didn't even drink the milk. "Well, maybe Santa was in a bit of a hurry last night?" She suggests, slipping out of bed gracefully and throwing a robe around her shoulders (even though it's not very cold. It's never cold in Florida).

He simply shrugs, replying, "Probably." and that was the end of it. Thankfully.

After all the presents were opened, starting it all off with the big one, they were going through what he got and playing with it all. "So do you like this?" She asks, knowing he does.

"Mom...it's what I've been begging for!" He chuckles a bit and looks back at it, completely content. "It's perfect, I've wanted to be able to watch my movies on something other than my portable DVD player. I can't wait to get it all hooked up and ready."

"And you also have some DVD's to watch, too." She says, and begins naming off titles such as Maleficent and How to Train Your Dragon 2. He stops her from saying anything else after she names off the Percy Jackson movie – quickly searching through ripped paper and bows to find it.

He holds it up proudly with a big, cheesy smile plastered on his face, "Can we watch it now?!" He asks excitedly, "On my TV?!"

She laughs at his enthusiasm, gently takes it from his hand and grabs the DVD player box. "_If _you help me set up this television. I'm not great with electronics, as you know." She replies with a brow arched, getting up.

He picks the television box up to help his mother out, going to his room. "Of course I'll help." He says, as if she should've already known that. "I know you're not good with electron-"

"Hey, hey, hey!" She interrupts, smiling. She then goes on to say that just because she said it, doesn't mean he was supposed to agree with it. Of course, it turned into a mini, playful argument about how horrible she really is with them until Henry started hooking everything up without Regina's help.

He turns to her, his face looked wild with happiness and he still wore that smile he had at six this morning, "See? I got it." He says as he jumps up and onto his bed, taking the remote in hand and turning his new TV on proudly.

She congratulates him for figuring it out, always letting her boy know that she's proud of him for his smarts. She's always wondered if her mother would've congratulated her for her smarts instead of condemning them, saying they were too "nerdy", if she would be in a better place than running a small business like this. On the other hand, she most likely wouldn't have met Daniel and then would've never had Henry, so she's happy that her life turned out like it has – in a roundabout way.

She can't help but dream, sometimes. Her wish was always to be a teacher, give kids the education that she wanted so badly. Growing up, her teachers weren't always the best. But she had one teacher, Mr. Gold, and he always helped her on things that she needed the most help with. She would stay after school sometimes and help him plan for the next day, or sometimes she would watch him grade papers. He was like a mentor to her through her high school years, and she wishes that she would've done what he told her.

"_This acceptance letter is a big deal, you know that, right?" He had asked, holding the paper up that came from Harvard._

Her mother, at the time, wanted her to marry this horrible man. That's when Daniel took her away to this town, brought her here and hid from her mother and from that revolting man, promised her she would be safe here. But her dreams of teaching went down the drain, especially after Henry came along.

"Mom?" His voice is irritated, "Are you listening?"

"Oh...y-yes, sweetie." She says, having absolutely no idea what he'd just said. "Go on?"

He clears his throat, acting all manly, and she soon figures out that he must've just told her he was going to the kitchen for a snack, because he's asking, now, if she wants anything.

"A muffin." She says, knowing there's pre-wrapped blueberry, chocolate, and banana muffins in the pantry. "Blueberry." She adds with a farcical smile on her face, batting her eyelashes playfully.

**..**

…

"How was your Christmas?" Emma asks, rolling up napkins for the day with Regina.

Regina shrugs, "As good as always. Henry and I just...hung out all day. We watched movies and ate a hell of a lot of food." She says, "But I'm not complaining."

Emma turns to her, raises a sly brow. Something Regina has always hated about Emma is that she never trusts what she says. Emma always has a good judgment about people, unfortunately, and can easily tell when they're upset or lying, or overly happy or enthused. She asks, "Something was wrong?" and folds up another napkin, wrapping the sticker around the cloth.

Regina's shrug is nonchalant, loose in the shoulders and slightly loose in the neck. "Ever since Daniel died, as you know, I haven't exactly been the happiest person ever. And..." She stops and looks down, holding the knife and fork in place while grabbing a spoon, "I feel like sometimes I don't give Henry my happiest days. They _are _spent here a lot. But other than that, I feel like I'm not as fun as I used to be when Daniel was alive. He brought out that good in me that no one could, and he took it with him when he died, too, I guess."

Maybe it's because they used to do things together? They used to go see movies, go to restaurants other than theirs and have a nice dinner date. Go out on the river and just walk. She's tried doing that with Henry, tried giving him those amazing memories that she gets, but _her own _memories come back to haunt her when she's doing those things with her boy. It hurts her more than it really should, especially after this long.

Nodding, the blonde replies, "Have you talked to Archie about it?"

Archie. She hasn't talked to him in a month or better. "I haven't had the time for him lately." Is her answer – short, to the point, and very snippy. "If I still miss Daniel this much after ten years, has he really been doing that great of a job, Emma?" She asks, adding, "Honestly."

Of course he isn't doing his job. He sits and watches her breasts with every move she makes, and she's pretty sure he never listens to a word she says about her problems.

She shrugs a little, putting a roll down and leaning against the cart. "Honestly? No. But someone needs to hear you, because it obviously helps a little for you to talk about it." She says, picking up another napkin to start the process yet again, "Besides, Henry doesn't even know Daniel. It's not right for you to be unhappy with him just because he reminds you of Daniel. It isn't his fau-"

"I know it isn't his fault." She snaps, getting irritated.

Another word is not spoken as Regina turns and leaves the cart, letting Emma finish the rest. Briskly walking to the restroom, she shuts herself in and tries to calm down like always. It's not Henry's fault that she's like this. It's like blaming him for Daniel's death or something close to as absurd as that. _Calm down, Regina. _It's not like his eyes aren't the same exact shape as Daniel's. _Stop thinking. _It's not like his hair color is the exact color of Daniel's. _Shut up, Regina. _It's not like Henry knew that the car would hit him in the side and flip him and flip him and _smash _him into the power pole, leaving her and a newborn baby behind. _Damn it!_

She's crying now. Bawling. Her makeup is demolished. Completely melting all over her face as she sniffles, keeping her back against the wall and trying to hold her cries inside of her body. Her fists are tight together, pulling against each other by her fingertips and doing _everything _in her power to just _not cry._

After a few moments, Snow is knocking on the door, "Regina?"

"Go away."

But she doesn't. She can feel Snow's existence, the happy and cheerful and _my life is perfect _existence. "I'm not leaving."

Angered, she marches to the door and swings it open, snapping, "This better be damn important, Mary-Margaret." and practically growling with each heavy breath she took.

There she stands. The picture of perfection and pristine. _My life is perfect and yours isn't. _It's like she rubs it in her face without even knowing it, or maybe she does and she doesn't even care. She has the perfect husband, the perfect little apartment and soon-to-be house that they're buying. A perfect life and Regina's has turned to shit.

"Pull yourself together, Regina." are not the words Regina was expecting to come out of her mouth, but they do as she marches in just as angrily and slams the door behind them. "It is the day after Christmas. You had a nice day with your son yesterday, didn't you?" She asks, waiting for an answer that she isn't receiving. "Didn't you?!" She asks, more sternness in her tone this time. Finally, Regina nods like a scolded child. "Exactly. He's alive, healthy, and he's an amazing little boy. Just because it isn't perfect for you, doesn't mean it isn't nice."

What the hell does_she_ know? "You're life is perfect anyway, Mary-Margaret. I mean look at you!" She bellows, "You got married at a great age, you can have kids, you have a nice car and a nice home, and you have family that love you and you-"

"And so do you. You got married too, it just didn't work out. You have a perfect little boy, Regina, and you neglect him half of the time because he reminds you of your late husband. You have a nice car, a nice apartment, and you have _us. _A family that loves you and cares for you. Look at Belle! She's taking care of Henry during the days even though she has every reason to go work at a college or have a nice job. It's because we care for you and we look out for you."

"You look out for me?" Regina quips, "Says the woman who left me in the bar and let me go home with a man whom I despise, only to wake up in his house the next day completely dazed and confused!"

She seems speechless. _Good, maybe she won't talk anymore. _But that's not it, she's just gathering the right words to say, unfortunately. "Like you didn't need to get laid."

With that, Regina literally pushes her out of the way, storms out of the restaurant after grabbing her purse at the front desk, and leaves without another word.

**..**

…

Friday morning sees Henry and Regina sleeping in, snuggled up together closely with the new Percy Jackson blanket he got for Christmas. She doesn't even attempt at going in to work today. They can handle it good enough, and they can also see how it is to have to serve and host at the same time.

She feels him shuffle beside her, his soft hair tickling against her bare arm. Her eyes open and get blinded by the intruding sunlight, grunting quietly to not wake Henry.

Shifting to look at him better, she smiles and remembers what it was like when he used to sleep with her as a newborn. He never did sleep in his crib the first whole month, she loved sleeping beside him. It was convenient, too, no getting up and padding through the house in the middle of the night to feed. Just sit up and help him out right there.

Snow's words set uneasy on her the whole evening until they started watching another movie. Had she been neglecting Henry, just because she doesn't do as many things with him? Maybe that's the way he felt, too. Maybe that's why he wants to stay with Belle more than he does his own mother. That's the other reason she's still in bed at 8:30 on a work morning, because she plans on taking him to Lowry Park Zoo today to have a little fun with the animals.

At nine, she gently shakes his little shoulder to wake him up, "Henry?" She coos, "I have a surprise for you."

His eyes slowly open, also blinded by the despicably rude sunlight. He asks her what it is, and she tells him to go get ready for a day at the zoo.

Immediately, she's laughing because he's zoomed out of the bed and into his room. _There goes my snuggle time for this morning. _

As she takes one last look in the mirror after getting dressed, she sees the faded hickey on her neck. (She's only wearing a sleeveless shirt and capris, because even in the winter time – it's unpredictable and usually hot. That's why she's bringing a hoodie for if it gets chilly, one for Henry too. Also, two raincoats, because you never know how Florida weather will end up.) It's pretty discolored, and will easily be covered with some foundation. But as she examines it, her heart wonders why it hasn't been that excited again. And then her stomach, and then her lower extremities, and she's squeezing her legs together and shaking her head. _Stop._

"You ready to go, Henry?" She calls out, finishing the last touch of foundation on her neck. "We'll stop and get some McDonald's on the way there."

He comes bouncing in her room and into her open bathroom with a tee and shorts, perfectly appropriate for this weather. "All ready, mom." He says, "And I got my backpack, too, so I can spend some money on a new shirt and hold it in there."

She laughs a little and nods, "Good thinking, baby." She says softly, fixing her shirt and then turning the light off, going out after him.

The line to get in is surprisingly short when they arrive there, thankfully. They both have full bellies, his with four chicken nuggets and a small fry, and hers with a hamburger. "Mom? Can we see the elephants?"

"Of course! What's a zoo trip without the elephants?"

He smiles, and it makes her smile. This is finally something they can do together that makes them both happy, that isn't something she and Daniel used to do. It makes her happy to know Henry is enthused to be going somewhere with her, but at the same time she can't shake that niggling feeling that he's only enthused because she hasn't been doing enough with him.

Once they're in with armbands and all, they head straight for the first exhibit. After a little while there, he declares that he really needs a drink. The stopping and spending seems to be constant, almost non-stop, but Regina is willing to splurge on her day off. On _their _day together.

"Roland!" He shouts from across the store, and the little boy comes running to Henry, yelling his name excitedly.

Regina smiles, cooing, "Who is this, Henry?" as she stands beside him.

"Roland." He replies, "He goes to that summer program that I went to this year. It was his first year, though, he's only four."

She smiles and extends her hand, "It's nice to meet you, Roland." She says with a warm smile, glad to meet one of Henry's "friends", even is he is only from summer camp.

"Roland? Roland where are you?!" A voice oh-too-familiar calls out.

Suddenly Regina feels the shameful need to hide behind something, but refrains and stands her ground, gripping her fingers tighter around Henry's backpack that she's been holding.

Footsteps coming from around the corner – closer, closer, and, "Roland, there you are my boy. I just – oh." He says, interrupted by Regina watching him, "Good afternoon, Regina. What a...pleasant...surprise seeing you here." He says, actually being genuine.

She can't ever tell how to take this man. Like on Sunday morning, when he was bringing her freshly-fucked-self some breakfast, he was being sweet and nice. But when he's playing businessman, he's a total ass. "Afternoon to you, Mr. Locksley. What brings you here?"

"My son." He says proudly, laying his large but gentle hand on Roland's shoulder, "This is his first time at the zoo."

Henry cuts in, now, being the tourist guide he seems to think he is, "Have you seen the elephants yet?!" He asks excitedly, and Roland shakes his head.

"Only the lions."

Regina raises a sly brow at Robin, folds her arms and shifts her weight to one leg, "Surprise, the _King of the Jungle _takes his son to visit the lions first."

A coy roll of his eyes is setting Regina on fire, just as he's about to reply. Instead, Henry cuts in yet again and invites them to come with he and she, informing them that Regina and he just got here only minutes ago. (In reality, it's been about an hour, but most of that time has been spent buying chips, a soda, a water, a t-shirt, and a big cup that he'll never use).

"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude on you and your mother, my boy." Robin says, being polite and usually friendly.

Henry shrugs, seeming to forget he's not alone in the pair, "My mom won't mind. Come on." He says, taking Roland's hand and leading him from the store.

Regina looks at Robin and crosses her arms tighter, more defensively, "Not a word, Locksley." She says, lowering her voice, "Not a word. We will be happy for our sons, and we'll act like we can get along. No fighting, no making this more miserable than it already is, and no making crude animal jokes."

"Crude animal jokes?" He asks, as if he thought she were kidding, "I'm not much of a joker, Regina."

"Never would've guessed." She replies as they walk a few feet behind their children.

Silence is looming for about five minutes until the kids decide they would like to ride the merry-go-round. She gives Henry the quarter and Robin gives Roland the quarter, and they get on and Robin and Regina wait on a bench.

Bags are piled between them, Roland's and Henry's, then Regina's makeshift purse/backpack. Robin is the first to break the silence, "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"Shouldn't you?" She snips, looking down at her nails and picking at the beds of them nervously. "Don't you have some big, expensive, fancy chain that you run?"

"Yes, and that's why I have people to do that stuff for me." He says, looking at her.

She can feel his eyes on her, and she knows the he wants her to turn and look at him. He's _that _self-conceded. _That _self-centered, believing the world has to be looking at him at all times. "And I have people too, people who need to learn a hard lesson about how to treat their boss."

"Oh?" He asks, seeming as though he's heard new gossip, "Do tell, then."

"Why do I need to?" She asks, waving and looking happy to Henry who is waving at her from the white, plastic horse he's riding. "You're nothing to me. You've made it clear you don't even want to be a decent customer to me, therefore I am not going to be a very decent person to you. I will for your son's sake, because I don't think you want him seeing you as a rich, underlying, asshole who needs put in his place more often. Or a jerk that takes women home from bars and has sex with them." and now she's blabbering, going on and on.

"And what makes you think I'm such an ass, Regina? Because you've seen me in the business world?"

"The business world should be the same as any other world. But apparently in Robin world, it means sleeping with women of businesses whom he wants to buy from. Therefore, I'm going to cut this little pow-wow short as soon as our sons get off this dizzying merry-go-round, then spend the rest of the day with my son like I'd planned." She says, standing up and grabbing her belongings, as well as her son's, then walks toward the exit of the merry-go-round to meet her son at the gate, and direct Roland toward his father.


End file.
